


If Only For A Night

by Livvy Moore (Tauria)



Series: Three's Company [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Modern Fantasy World, Modern Magic, Multi, Polyamory, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tauria/pseuds/Livvy%20Moore
Summary: Almost immediately upon walking in, Bri is reminded of every reason she loves and hates fancy-restaurant dates. On one hand, their fame doesn't matter here. No one casts them a second look because they're too wrapped up in themselves, and the three of them aren't dressed in their best. (Specifically to avoid getting second looks.) But on the other hand, there's such an air of pretentiousness and snobbery here. The prices are exorbitant. There's obvious display of wealth everywhere. Everyone walks around with their nose in the air. But, she reminds herself, this date isn't for her. It isn't even for Cassius, or Aelia.It's for the public.





	If Only For A Night

"I swear you spelled this thing to keep rumpling," Aelia growls, yanking again at the lilac tie around Bri's neck.

Bri smiles lazily. "So what if I did? You gonna spank me?" She wiggles her brows, the corner of her lip curling to show a hint of teeth.

Aelia snarls under her breath, showing off pointed fangs. Bri shivers. Her arm pebbles beneath her jacket sleeves. Aelia yanks at the tie one last time, and a burst of magic flares from her fingertips. The tie shimmers red, and finally straightens.

Bri pouts.

Cassius leans in the doorframe, arms crossed loose over his chest. Amusement twinkles in his eyes. "Hurry it up," he says. "We're going to be late. More than five minutes late and they'll give our table away."

"We've had these reservations for eight months," Aelia reminds Bri. "I am not going to lose them because _someone_ thinks it's funny to be an ass."

There's no heat to her words. Bri grins, loose and easy, and slings an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, babe. I'll be on my best behavior tonight. Promise."

"Because you've been doing _so_ well thus far." Aelia rolls her eyes, but leans into the touch. Cassius comes to walk on Aelia's other side. He presses a hand to the small of her back as they leave their apartment.

It's the first night in forever that they've had to themselves. No loud, obnoxious friends taking up residence on their couch or in the kitchen. No kid, precious but ever so demanding. No family, with teasing smiles and pointed questions.

Just the three of them.

They climb into the car. Bri takes the wheel, because it's her baby. Aelia sits in the passenger seat, a little stiff. Even after all this time, giving control to someone else still scares her. Cassius sprawls out in the backseat; long limbed and easy.

They make idle chatter as she drives. Aelia relaxes, as she always does. Bri's an excellent driver, though a lot of people want to claim otherwise, just based off of past reckless behavior. (And they're not wrong. But she saves that recklessness for when she's on her own.)

Cassius talks about his patients—as much as he can without breaking confidentiality agreements. He talks about his coworkers, and gripes about people not listening when he warns them not to do things.

Aelia talks about her latest meetings; the changes she plans to implement in her department, how public relations are going. She asks their advice, and Bri mainly fills that role. Cassius tries to stay away from bureaucracy as much as possible.

Bri talks about her ships; speaks fondly of the one they just finished building, and how she's looking forward to going on its test run. She talks about getting to retire one of the old ones, and tries to persuade Aelia to let her revamp the naval uniforms.

Conversation veers away from work as she pulls up to the date venue. She hands the keys to the valet with only a little reluctance, and tucks her arm into Aelia's—who's other arm is Cassius—and together, the three of them walk in.

Almost immediately upon walking in, Bri is reminded of every reason she loves and hates fancy-restaurant dates. On one hand, their fame doesn't matter here. No one casts them a second look because they're too wrapped up in themselves, and the three of them aren't dressed in their best. (Specifically to avoid getting second looks.) But on the other hand, there's such an air of pretentiousness and snobbery here. The prices are exorbitant. There's obvious display of wealth everywhere. Everyone walks around with their nose in the air. But, she reminds herself, this date isn't for her. It isn't even for Cassius, or Aelia.

It's for the public.

If the three of them had their way, they would be somewhere else entirely. Maybe a night out on the boat—or out clubbing—or on a picnic in a park—or stargazing on a hill—or at a small-time restaurant. But every so often—once every six months or so, they have to go to one of these fancy places, all dressed up and nice, ready to put in their public appearances and appease the nobility. Its the same reason that Aelia makes her go to the annual balls. (Aelia herself goes for networking purposes.)

Once seated, they look over their menus. Bri nearly balks at the price—no matter how long it's been, she will never get used to the luxury they've found themselves and the exorbitant prices that come along with it. Through the bond, she can feel her lovers' agreement.

To take her mind away from the extravagance, she brings up Alice's latest project and Alex's valiant attempt to help her with it. They're all in stitches by the time she finishes, menus clutched in tight fingers as they hide grinning faces behind them. It's hard to keep quiet; to keep from disturbing the atmosphere of this place. But they manage it. Somehow.

Bri closes her eyes and listens to the lilt of the violin; the melody of the harp. She remembers a duet, played long ago, in the privacy of elegant bedrooms. She swallows, and Cassius presses his foot against hers, while Aelia takes her hand. Both of them smile encouragingly as she opens her eyes; so much love and warmth in their eyes, humming down the bond and reminding her that whatever else she lost of that life—she has them. She'll always have them.

The sadness is still there—the nostalgia, the everpresent ache of a life and a family lost. But she's not alone. She's not the only one who remembers that time; who has the distant echo of another life humming in the back of her head; a life that they can't speak of. Not yet.

Aelia speaks. "I don't think I said it before we left, but you cut a fine figure in that suit." Her eyes dip down appreciatively before raising to meet Bri's own, a glint of wicked humor shining in her eyes.

Bri grins. "Oh, I know. I look better out of it, though." She wiggles her eyebrows and waits for Aelia's scoff.

But Aelia has always delighted in surprising her. She grins back; a predators smile, all glinting teeth and pointed fangs. Her eyes are dark; pupils blown wide, the light reflecting in them in a way that is absolutely mesmerizing. "Oh, I _know_ ," she purrs.

Bri finds herself at a loss for words; shifting in her seat, off-balance in a way that only this woman can manage.

Cassius chuckles and it shoots through her bones. Honey brown eyes meet hers; flecked with specks of amusement. His mouth parts, but whatever witty comment has jumped into his throat is stoppered by the reappearance of the waiter.

He fills three goblets with a deep red wine, and holds up a pad of paper, ready to take their orders.

Aelia orders something elven. A remnant from a childhood long lost, by the way the words curl off of her tongue. Cassius orders something simple and healthy. Bri picks something random off the menu—she's never been picky—and only just curbs the desire to butcher the pronunciation on purpose.

Aelia lifts her goblet to her lips; dark red lips the same color as the wine swirling in her glass. She drinks, deeply, slowly, eyes shutting. She's always had a weakness for good wine. (Bri prefers whiskey; anything that burns when it goes down and gets you drunk, quick and easy. Not thick and heady drinks that make your head fuzz and your eyes droop.)

As she drinks, Bri takes the moment to study her.

Raven curls cascade down her shoulders; looking like spilled ink against olive skin. A few strands frame a sharp, elven face; high cheekbones and a strong jaw. Her eyes, closed down, are the most beautiful shade of golden green. Her ears are large and pointed; sharper than most full-blooded elves—not that Aelia is considered a half-elf, despite her human mother.

She's been blessed with curves; full round breasts, which swell in the confines of her dress. Her form disappears under the table but Bri knows her—knows her like the back of her hand, like the way she knows every small detail of her favorite ship. Her ribs dip into swelled hips; thick thighs and a perfect ass. Her middle is toned, thanks to their job, but always a little soft; a pouch of fat to cushion her most delicate insides.

She's a beauty, and always has been. Artists have tried, and failed, to capture her—in poetry, in song, in paint. Each one is gorgeous in its own right—how could it not be, inspired by her?—but none come close to the goddess sitting across from her.

Aelia crosses her legs under the table and leans back in her chair, resting the goblet on the table. She catches Bri staring, but Bri doesn't blush or duck her head; just smiles.

Aelia returns the smile, and snakes an arm around the back of Cassius's seat. She strokes the lip of her glass; a small, smug smile on her face like she knows, knows what Bri is thinking and wants to show off just how much of a goddess she is.

"Something on your mind?" Aelia asks, smug smile widening. She looks through her eyelashes; playing at demure even though Bri knows she's anything but.

Bri swallows. "Just thinking about how I can't wait to get you home and out of that dress."

Aelia laughs; head tilting back to display her throat.

Cassius grins. "You're always thinking that, Bri."

"So're you. Don't deny it," Bri teases.

She watches a strand of red-gold hair escape the ponytail he bound it in; the way his eyes and mouth crinkle at the corners. Cassius has always looked so much older than the rest of them. It's the gaunt cheeks; the sharp cheekbones and pointed chin; the hooked nose. It's the way his shoulders slump and the way he looks like he hasn't had a good meal in weeks.

It doesn't matter how many meals they cook—no matter how delicious and how filling, no matter how many bowls he eats. He looks like a starving man. But he's handsome, all the same.

He's the palest of the three of them. The sun kisses his skin and leaves behind hundreds of red-brown freckles; leaving him only the barest hint of a tan. Bri's got sun-warmed skin, ruddy from days spent in the sun, on the deck of a ship, or training in the yard with their soldiers. And Aelia's naturally dark; olive skinned. Days out training and traveling have only darkened her skin.

"I can't wait to get the both of you home," Bri says.

Cassius smiles. "Night's only just begun, Bri-Bri. Don't rush through it yet."

She scowls half-heartedly at the nickname, and slides her ankle up his calf. He presses into her touch and Aelia refills their glasses, toying with the ends of his hair.

"What else do you have planned for tonight?" Aelia asks.

He planned this—romantic creature that he is. He and Aelia enjoy these nights, even if they are primarily for the public. They love the twinkling lights of the chandeliers; the ornate tablecloths; the fancy food; the dressing up. They might hate the prices, the snobbery, the classism, and the aloofness… but… Cassius loves to make his girls feel like queens; and while Bri might have other ways of feeling like royalty, Aelia basks in it.

"That, dearest, is a surprise." Cassius smiles to himself. "And it wouldn't do to ruin it."

Bri pouts. "So you can tell me to be patient, but you can't tell me what I'm being patient through?"

"Well right now," he says, eyes twinkling, "you're being patient through dinner. You can think about the next bit when it happens."

Smartass. She sticks her tongue out at him.

"I thought you preferred to think on your feet, rolling with the punches as they come?" He cocks his head to the side, faux innocent. His eyes give him away.

She kicks him in the shin—well, it's more a tap, really.

He just laughs. "No amount of abuse or batting your eyelashes is going to get me to tell you. You'll just have to wait."

Bri sighs. "Fine, fine." She looks at Aelia. "Tell me about your trip to the islands, again. The non-work bits."

Aelia laughs and indulges her, speaking of the proud warrior-women that she went to visit. The earrings wrapped around the shells of her ear came from there; as did the golden bangles on her wrists, the earring in Cassius's left ear, and the belly button in Bri's navel.

Bri sinks into her presence and lets herself relax. She could be patient—if only for a night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr as [ladycravenheart](https://ladycravenheart.tumblr.com/) or [livvywrites](https://archiveofourown.org/works/livvywrites.tumblr.com/). And check this story out on [FictionPress](https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3311639/1/Three-s-Company), if you like!


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